


tell me, is this deja vu?

by mercutionotromeo



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tattoos, cody gets hard from getting tatted, gratuitous use of the word slut, tattoo artist!noel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 11:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutionotromeo/pseuds/mercutionotromeo
Summary: “So, if you wanna get on the table and face me, I can put the stencil on,” Noel tells him.Should Cody make a joke about how his cock will be in Noel’s face? Do straight guys do that?He climbs onto the table. The gentle pressure of Noel’s fingertips on the front of his thigh - oh my god.Cody winces dramatically, trying to cover it up. “I promise I didn’t pick this spot so you could stare at my junk the whole time.”Noel laughs, then his face settles into an easy smirk. “All part of the job, bro.”Or: tattoo artist!Noel plus Cody, who likes getting tatted a little too much.





	tell me, is this deja vu?

**Author's Note:**

> hey! more TMG content! bonus points to anyone who recognizes the actual dialogue said by actual cody & noel, had to pepper that shit in somewhere. this was inspired by all those posts about how cody’s sexuality is just “slutty”, and by my correct headcanon that cody gets off on pain. enjoy!
> 
> (obvious rpf warning - these are characters inspired by them, please do not link this to them etc etc)
> 
> title: deja vu / post malone

“Fuck.”

Cody stands helplessly in the middle of the street, watching the tow truck take his car away. If anyone would have their car break down in a place like this, on the first leg of their cross country road trip, it’d be him. He’s officially stranded in Shit Dick Nowhere, USA - just his fuckin’ luck.

He sighs and looks around him. If a tumbleweed rolled past, he wouldn’t even be surprised. What the hell is this town’s population - 10?

There are exactly three buildings within walking distance: a McDonald’s, a seedy gas station, and a run-down tattoo parlor. Well, Cody’s got no use for a full gas tank. He looks between the McDonald’s and the tattoo shop. McDonald’s, then back to the tattoo shop. He glances over his shoulder at the tow truck retreating in the distance.

“Fuck it.”

A tiny bell on the door rings as Cody pushes it open and walks inside. The place is empty, but there’s the faint buzz of a tattoo gun in the background. There must be  _someone_ here. 

“Hello?” He calls cautiously. 

Nobody answers. He walks further into the shop and approaches the counter. 

“Uh - hello?” 

The sound of the tattoo gun stops. A chair scrapes loudly on linoleum. Then, a man walks out from the back of the shop. 

“Hey, man. What’s up?” 

He’s short, the same size as Cody - dark hair that’s neatly cut, gorgeous brown eyes, one tiny stud in his right ear. Cody forces himself to stop staring and act like a normal adult.

“Uh - you do walk-ins, right?” 

The man looks around the deserted shop, amused. “Hell yeah.” 

Minutes later, Cody’s sitting on a tattoo table in the back of the shop, flipping through a flash book. This guy - Noel - introduced himself as the owner and sole artist of the shop. It strikes Cody as a  _little_ weird; he can’t see any ink on Noel’s body. He’s not about to get, like, blood poisoning from some inexperienced tattooist in Shit Dick Nowhere - no matter how hot he is. 

“Uh,” He starts, trying to sound confident. Noel looks up to meet his eyes. Cody’s heart sort of crawls into his throat, but he keeps going. 

“Sorry if this is, like, weird to say. But you look like you’re not really tattooed. Usually artists are covered, right?”

Noel holds his gaze for a second, then pulls the collar of his long-sleeved t-shirt down. Greyscale ink licks up his collarbones, across his chest, creeping up his neck. 

“Oh.” 

Unfortunately for Cody, this sparks a familiar heat in his stomach.  _Not now, you asshole_, he thinks to his cock. 

He hopes his voice sounds calmer than he feels. “Sorry, man. Not trying to assume anything.” 

Noel shrugs. “It’s cool. Always good to look for experienced artists.” 

Cody drops his eyes back to the book, more than a little embarrassed. He stops on a page with a traditional-style skull, roughly half the size of his palm. 

“I like this one.” 

Noel leans over to look at it. “Good choice, bro. Where d’you want it?” 

It takes some awkward fumbling to tell him he wants it on his thigh - which, fuck, now he has to get half-naked. He unbuttons his jeans while Noel’s setting up his supplies, trying his best to stay cool. Taking his pants off in front of a hot near-stranger is as close as he’s been to sex in a long time. 

_Hey, remember when he pulled down his shirt and showed you his secret sexy tattoos? _ His brain helpfully supplies.

“Fuck off,” Cody whispers under his breath. It’s a blessing and a curse that he picked his good boxer briefs today - the tight-fitting black ones. Grindr loves them.

“So, if you wanna get on the table and face me, I can put the stencil on,” Noel tells him, sliding his hands into black latex gloves. 

Should Cody make a joke about how his cock will be in Noel’s face? Do straight guys do that? 

He climbs onto the table. The gentle pressure of Noel’s fingertips on the front of his thigh - _oh my _ _god._

Cody winces dramatically, trying to cover it up. “I promise I didn’t pick this spot so you could stare at my junk the whole time.” 

Noel laughs, then his face settles into an easy smirk. “All part of the job, bro.” 

By the time the stencil’s in the right place and Noel’s ready to ink the outline, Cody’s sweating. Honestly, he’s never had a tattoo done by — well, by a guy who’s this hot. It’s all he can do to keep his cock soft in his boxers. 

Noel instructed him to move onto his back with his knees up, so his crotch is really  _right there._ It’s just a  lot, that’s all.

“All good, dude?” Noel looks over at him quizzically. “You seem... fidgety.” 

Cody swallows hard, staring at the ceiling.  “Nah. Nah, all good.” His voice quavers more than he’d like it to.

“You sure? Not too nervous?” 

Cody makes an effort to steady his voice this time. “Yeah. I’m cool.” 

The buzz of the tattoo gun fills Cody’s ears, and he feels the familiar scratch of the needle against his skin. Usually, this part is easy. He can just zone out and relax. This time, though, he can’t stop thinking about the way Noel’s fingers feel on his thigh. Can’t stop thinking about how close they are to his cock.  He swallows again and forces his mind to wander somewhere else. 

Eventually, Cody refocuses; the outline is already halfway done. There’s something so — so fuckin’  _pathetic_ about this whole situation. Stranded in this shithole town, desperately trying not to get hard from this dude barely touching his thigh... 

Cody half-considers saying “fuck it” and making a move - it’s not like he’ll ever see him again if it goes badly. But the last thing he wants to do is walk out with a half-finished tattoo. So he grits his teeth and stays quiet. 

“You from around here?” Noel starts, wiping Cody’s tattoo. 

Cody shakes his head and keeps his gaze on the ceiling. “I’m sort of passing through.” 

“Road trip?”

Cody lets out a long breath. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Trying to find yourself? Is that it?” Noel asks, raising his voice a little over the sound of the tattoo gun.

“I guess. What else are you gonna do after a breakup?”

“Oh, shit, dude.”  Noel actually sounds sympathetic. “Was it mutual?” 

Cody shrugs. “She wasn’t really... my type.” It’s not  _technically_ a lie. 

“Yeah?” Noel pauses, then: “What  _is_ your type?”

Oh, fuck. 

Cody briefly contemplates lying, but then, like — how many straight guys ask another guy what their type is? 

“...Dudes.”

The buzz of the tattoo gun stops. Noel lets out a low whistle, like he’s impressed. “Goddamn, man. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Cody immediately gets defensive; he should’ve known better than to out himself to a total stranger. “What? That I’m — that I like guys?”

Noel nods as he bends over Cody’s thigh again. “Yeah. Thought I was always gonna be the only one around here.”

It takes Cody a second to process that one. “You... you’re into dudes, too?” 

For a second, there’s silence except for the buzz of the tattoo gun. Cody’s heart beats harder in his chest.

“Yeah, man,” Noel finally says. “Closest gay bar is in the next state. I’m getting fuckin’ desperate.” 

Cody doesn’t know how to respond to that, actually. Too busy drooling at hearing the word “desperate” in Noel’s mouth. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to say anything because Noel finishes with the outline. 

“So this part’ll feel different,” Noel explains. “Might be more intense while I’m shading, just a heads up.” 

“Uh - sure. Thanks.” 

The pain _is_ more intense, and the sharper prick of the needle is really... whoa. Cody can practically feel his pupils getting wider by the second. He involuntarily squeezes his legs closer together.

Noel’s fingers press into his thigh.  “Gotta stay still for me.” 

How could that  _not_ go straight to Cody’s dick? 

“Sorry.” 

Another thirty seconds, and the pain and arousal is getting Cody fuckin’  _high. _The combination of Noel’s hands on his body and the constant sting of the needle is way too much. 

_Please stay soft, please stay soft, please stay soft—_

Fuck. 

Okay. So Cody’s cock is definitely chubbing up in his boxers. He stares helplessly at the ceiling, a blush rising up his chest. And  _of course_ the shame only gets him harder. 

Sure - so Noel is miraculously into guys, that part is great. But no one could possibly be into a guy who’s fully hard from a fuckin’ tattoo.

Noel’s voice breaks through Cody’s reverie.

“Careful, dude, you’re turning me on.” 

He laughs as he says it, but why does Cody think he might actually be serious?

“It’s not — it’s not you, it’s the pain,” Cody manages weakly. 

Noel scoffs. “C’mon. You really expect me to believe that?” 

“I...” Cody trails off, lost for words.

“You’ve been hard since I put the stencil on. Probably before that, too, huh?” 

Cody’s silent, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Noel glances over his shoulder, at the empty shop, then back to Cody. Cody can feel his gaze on his cock, straining against the thin fabric. 

Noel calmly sets his tattoo gun down and nods at Cody’s crotch. 

“You want me to help you with that?” 

Shit, all Cody can do is whisper a wrecked “_please_”. 

Noel’s careful about getting his boxers off, wary of the fresh ink on his thigh. It’s embarrassing how much pre-come has pooled against Cody’s belly. 

Noel clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Look at you. You’re that hard? Just from this?” He brushes his fingertips next to the tattoo to demonstrate his point. 

Cody sucks in a sharp breath. “Can’t help it.” 

Noel spits into his palm and wraps it wetly around Cody’s cock. The contact makes his head spin. Fuck, this whole thing is so dirty and raw and _good_. 

The wet click of Noel’s hand on him is only making it hotter. Somehow, Noel knows how to work him over just right - or maybe it’s that Cody’s fuckin’ dizzy with arousal. He knows he should be embarrassed that Noel’s pulling him off so fast, but he’s too far gone.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Noel murmurs. “I can tell you like being a good boy.” 

Cody gives up on staying quiet - he moans at that, wrecked and broken. Heat boils in his belly, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Noel jerks him off faster, like he’s chasing the sound of Cody’s moans. But then he thumbs over the head of his cock, and Cody just dissolves into whimpers. 

“Can’t believe you,” Noel continues, shaking his head. “Walking into my shop, getting hard on my table. Fuckin’ shameless, aren’t you?” 

Cody nods, hips twitching. He’s so close - never thought he’d be so into being called “shameless”.

Noel grins, smug and self-satisfied. “Practically begging for it. God, such a slut.” 

That’s the breaking point, the word that tips Cody off the edge into bliss. He spills over Noel’s fist and onto his own stomach, whining and moaning through it. Noel works him til he’s sensitive, til it almost hurts. 

As soon as Cody starts to come down from his high, he’s scrambling off the table and reaching for Noel’s belt.

“Wanna - fuck, wanna get you off,” He says breathlessly as he drops to his knees. 

“Shit,” Noel hisses, and he lets his legs fall open. It’s obvious he’s hard in his jeans.  “You really are a slut, huh?” 

But Cody doesn’t respond because he’s too busy getting his mouth around Noel’s cock. 

“Jesus, what the fuck am I doing?” Noel groans, but he drops a hand to Cody’s head. In response, Cody easily takes him to the back of his throat. 

“Fuck,  oh my god—“ Noel grits out, thrusting his hips a little. “Being so good for me. Such a good little slut.” 

Jesus, if Noel keeps talking like this, Cody’s definitely gonna get hard again. Noel rolls his hips and moans, tugging on Cody’s hair. 

His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he pulls out.  He comes white ribbons across Cody’s chest, probably ruining his t-shirt. Cody couldn’t give less of a fuck if he tried. 

“Holy shit,” Noel pants.

Cody looks up at him from between his thighs, still shameless, still hungry for more. 

Noel hastily tucks himself back into his pants and scoots his chair back.  He strides to the front of the shop, then flips the sign on the door from “open” to “closed”. 

“Give me five minutes,” He calls, still breathing hard. “And I’m gonna bend you over that table.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked! feel free to leave a comment if you would like more content! i am slowly getting back into the swing of writing for this account so it’s very encouraging to get feedback - thanks for reading!


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